


The Songwriter

by Susanisfantastic



Category: Naruto
Genre: AU, CALLED AKATSUKI BOOM, Deidara is a drummer, Enemies to Lovers, Hate at First Sight, Kisame sings no one can stop me!, M/M, SO, SasoDei - Freeform, Sasori is a songwriter, Tags to be added, There's a band, Zetsu Jr is a plant, a lot of arguments, a lot of stupid plot, band!au, everyone is cool, i still can't english, this shit keeps me up whole night, wasn't expecting that, when i'm consious
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-10-27 03:43:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10800996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Susanisfantastic/pseuds/Susanisfantastic
Summary: Band!AU. Sasori is given an opportunity to finally work in the music industry. Thanks to Konan - the manager of "the Akatsuki" - he can try his abilities in songwriting. Unfortunately, a certain blond co-songwriter doesn't agree to let his job to the redhead. This won't end well.





	1. Only one spark

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, it's me ^^. Prepare for horrible writing (please tell me if you see any errors, thanks). This is my first multi-chapt btw. Also, the song at the beginning is mine. I do not own the characters. Kudos and comments are love. Enjoy!

_Temporary, as sweet as we're flying,_   
_Fleeting moments before dying,_   
_Only one heart torn to pieces,_   
_Only one grieving soul,_   
_Only one sorrowful ocean,_   
_Just because you are gone._

_So light, light me on fire,_   
_So crush, crush me to storms,_   
_So taste, taste new desire,_   
_So fly, fly me to stars._

_You made my shy shine so bright,_   
_I'm now blind from the light,_   
_Only one heart healed to roses,_   
_Only one breathing soul,_   
_Only one fleeting explosion,_   
_And that's how you are gone._

The pen between his teeth tastes like disappointment. And that's what he feels too. His mind is empty, even though his imagination is working. Isn't that awful? Konan will kill him anyway.

Deidara sighs and closes his eyes, fighting the urge to sleep, slowly crawling its claws on his back. He should be okay – sitting in the living room on a couch, blond hair messily tied in a ponytail, paper in hand and a pen between his teeth. But he isn't.

His job is easy – write a song, maybe the melody too. Usually, he can't even keep silent about the ideal piece he just thought. This is different. Maybe because Konan said they will need a love song.

Which is why he sits in the "band headquarters" as Pain likes to call a small apartment they rented for a purpose of meeting and storage. There is not a lot of space, but the six of them can fit perfectly – the instruments are safe, and no one is messing with the loudspeakers.

The clock on the wall slowly counts another minute, adding anxiety to him. He looks upon words he has written, but they seem odd, even though he saw them many, many times before. It's like watching a favourite movie with foreign subtitles – everything seems the same, yet different.

The puffy clouds slide on the perfectly blue sky. The sun is shining through the curtains, and it annoys Deidara to no end. It's 9 AM and he hasn't slept for two days. Thanks to work.

He bites his lips, raising a pen to actually add something, but the sound of quick footsteps freeze him in the middle of the action. Then the door bursts open and the blue-haired manager steps in.

Konan meets his eyes and smiles. This is not a good sign.

"Deidara, I wasn't expecting you to be here," she says politely as she approaches the couch. The blond smiles back, but it's not his carefree smile he always has.

"Me too, un," he responds and then her golden eyes fall on the piece of paper. She raises a brow.

"Are you working?" she asks, sounding surprised, and it's a little bit offensive but Deidara just nods.

"Yeah," he says silently. The blue-haired woman seems to be pleased with that answer.

"Great. I was going to tell you some big news, but they might be irrelevant now. Can I have a look?" he hands her the song hesitantly. Her eyes scan the text, grimace distorts her lips. Deidara gulps nervously. She breathes out a sigh.

"You know… This isn't bad," she starts, only to be interrupted a moment later.

"But?"

"Okay, maybe it is time for news," she changes the topic immediately. Deidara looks at her suspiciously.

"Okay, un." he shrugs, actually interested from the first time she has mentioned that.

"You remember the advertisement we've sent? We finally got an answer. Prepare for expanding the band." she laughs excitedly, making the idea seem great. But the blond knows better than that. New person means changing slightly the band dynamics. They will have to get along with weird attitudes and unsteady personalities.

"What they are going to do, un?" he asks, sinking a little bit more into soft cushions. Konan instantly shifts her position, approaching the piece of furniture.

"Probably, he will-," the sudden knocking interrupts her explanation. In mere seconds she emerges from the room.

The new band member is waiting at the front door. Konan welcomes him, Deidara hears a polite "hello" but he doesn't use any of the energy to get up from the couch. Though he sits upright when a rather short redhead elegantly makes his way to the living room. The man bows his head politely at the sign of young but quite devastated blond. Konan glares at Deidara and he stands up clumsily. The redhead looks at him, curious. The man looks mature but still young, he can't have more than thirty years. He has bright red hair, brushed messily, and very vivid amber eyes. His expression is stoic, unmoved when the blue-haired introduces him to Deidara.

"Deidara, meet Sasori. He will be our co-songwriter," she points at the redhead and for a blink of an eye, time stops. Deidara's heart ceases to beat.

"What?! Why haven't you told me, un?" he shrieks, maybe a little over dramatic, but the feeling of betrayal is cold. Konan looks at him cautiously.

"I didn't have a chance. Now quit whining," she scolds him and spins to smile at Sasori reassuringly.

"Sasori, this is Deidara, our other songwriter and the drummer." Cold eyes move from the long, light hair to the smooth face and then to the whole being, silently judging the blond. Something in Deidara's stomach twitches unpleasantly.

"Hi, un" he mutters discontent. Sasori's brow rises.

"Well, hello to you too. I see you don't like an idea of a little help," he articles, raising his jaw unimpressed. Deidara glares at him.

"I'm doing fine without it, thank you" the blond enunciates, mindlessly digging his fingers in the lyrics Konan left him before answering the door. Amber eyes follow the movement. He sees words scribbled down, like a poem, or maybe… a lyrics?

"Is this your new song?" he addresses Konan unexpectedly, pointing at the paper. She nods silently, slightly worried about meeting result. "Can I see it?"

"Yeah, un," the blond shrugs, uncertain, and hands him the lyrics. Sasori trails his eyes over words, can't help but squint at weird combination in the song's meaning. He raises his head, looking at the blond wordlessly.

"What, un?" Deidara shifts nervously under the scrutinizing look. Staring makes his guts twist.

"That thing really was going to be your song? Now I know why you needed me." he gives back the piece like it's a rotten mouse or something. Deidara feels his face grow warmer.

"What do you mean by that, un?! Konan said it was okay." he challenges the redhead, but Sasori shakes his head.

"I think it would be better if you keep away from writing songs. Maybe focusing on playing the drums would be more… efficient." Sasori taunts him with an unimpressed smirk on his porcelain face.

"Like you are any better." The blond fumes. The mental daggers fly between them. Konan clears her throat.

"If you are done talking, I could inform both of you about the band meeting. Though, it starts here in about fifteen minutes, so you can continue arguing. Oh, and by the way," the blue-haired woman recalls instantly, "better get along well because I'm pretty certain that Pain will murder someone if he has to cancel another concert. And we still need a song." After that she disappears into the other room, preparing for the meeting. The blond and redhead exchange distasteful looks.

"At least I've written something, un. What do you have?" he looks angrily at the older.

"I've studied literature, so I'm more suitable for writing songs. Also, I'm pretty sure even a three-year-old could write a better song than you. Love as an explosion? Pathetic. Everyone knows that the true love is eternal." Sasori states silently to the blond standing next to him. Deidara's blue eyes widen a bit.

"Seriously? Love, eternal? Love is beautiful, and beautiful things cannot be everlasting, un" the blond corrects the redhead who glares at him.

"I see, not only your songs are lunatic. You are pretty crazy yourself." Sasori claims. Deidara tosses his hair offensively.

"I don't care what do you think of me, as long as I can write a song, un." The blond states less fiercely, visibly trying to make an agreement. Sasori tilts his head to the side.

"If I'm writing for Akatsuki you have nothing to say, I'll be the one whose job is to write songs," the older boast victoriously.

"Like hell I'm letting you do that, un," the younger stresses, now angrily confident. He tightens his lips and turns on his heel, storming away. Sasori is left alone in the living room.

Deidara already knows something; he isn't going to lose this battle. Not a chance.

Better be prepared, Sasori. Blondes don't forgive easily.


	2. Grains of sand in the eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, exams are killing me. Enjoy!

Pain walks slowly into the room, completely ignored by everyone. He looks very tired and not prepared to deal with a bunch of overexcited children. Which is unfortunate because this "overexcited children" are his own band members.

"Hidan, can you not-," Kakuzu is cut off immediately when an electric guitar flies through the place, nearly hitting his head. "Stop trying to kill me, you bastard!"  
The guitar crashes into the wall with a loud ‘thump'. No one is especially surprised.

"… And then he told me to leave it to the professionals. Can you believe that?!" comes from the other side of the room, where Deidara rambles about his very recent meeting with Sasori to Kisame. The sickly pale, blue-haired man nods politely as he lets the blond talk his problems out. He probably isn't even listening because Itachi is quietly preparing for his parts on the keyboard. His raven hair falls carelessly on his back, eyes squint when he tries to decipher Konan's small additions in the score. He looks very cute like that in Kisame's opinion.

"Zetsu that's the seventh pick in a month! Can you please stay away from my stuff? It's horribly expensive!" Kakuzu now shouts at the green-haired boy who took advantage of his argument with Hidan to stuff his face with guitar picks. Thankfully, Kakuzu manages to regain most of them. 

"Okay, everyone can you please shut up for a second?" The man shouts and the whole room goes silent. Small smile forms in the corner of his mouth. "Great. Before you resume your unnecessary row, please be nice for a moment and welcome Sasori to our group. He will be our songwriter. Sasori?" He lets the shorter man in the room, completely ignoring confusion of the band members.

"But… Deidara is our songwriter...?" Someone silently murmurs, probably Itachi, who is never thankful for more people he must be around.

"We have two songwriters now" Konan explains, sticking her head between the door frames.

"One and a half" The blond mumbles angrily. Sasori smiles mockingly. 

"Cut yourself some slack. You can count as a whole songwriter" he says teasingly, causing the blond to shoot daggers in his direction.

"Oh, shut up, you know what I meant, un!" he yells at the redhead who shrugs. Pain clears his throat unnecessary loudly just to make all bickering to die out. 

"Can you two just listen for a minute?" he sighs heavily, before continuing, "Sasori is now officially in the squad which means you have to accept him. I don't want any fights before completing the album."

"And after?" the blond sounds hopeful, smiling innocently at him. He hears Konan puffs amused behind his back. He looks sternly at the boy.

"No, Deidara. Not before, not after, not ever" something fades in his baby blue eyes and he casts a quick glance in Sasori's direction. It's pretty visible he isn't content with the answer. He probably wanted to write a song by himself, but really inconvenient writer's block and questionable lyrics didn't put him in a good light.

"Any more questions?" to his surprise a silver-haired male raises his head, looking at the new member with distrust. 

"How long he stays?" his voice is deep, full of disapproval and doubt. The raspberry eyes glints with an unsaid challenge. 

"For longer than you wish, but not as long as you expect. I'm not exclusive. I have other work." Sasori snaps, eyes squinting at the man. He doesn't like superiority and this man should know he will have to suffer his presence for quite some time. Not that Sasori has any insurance about that.

"Is that all? Great, now prepare instruments, and we will show Sasori some real band rehearsal." Konan claps her hands, dismissing Pain from the room and making the band do anything music related at all. Everyone moves in swift rhythm, familiar with the habits of the other members, and it's just amazing to see some kind of silent cooperation like they are one big organism. In mere seconds, everything is set perfectly. Hidan and Kakuzu, both with guitars, sit closely to each other, making themselves a background for Itachi. In the far-left corner, Deidara taps the drums with one finger, trying to figure what's wrong. His forehead wrinkles with frustration, but other than that he is unexpectedly quiet. Kisame readjust a microphone, making Zetsu check if it works. The tall man smiles at Sasori, who sits awkwardly in the opposite corner.

"Normally Pain would sing," Kisame explains to the redhead and Sasori's eyes widen a little bit, not expecting the lead singer to be someone overworked like Pain. He surely kills multitasking. "But he said he has too much paperwork after Konan left for a week a month ago." 

"Oh, it's okay. I think I was asked to be here to actually get to know everybody and their skill, so it wouldn't be awkward later. So, don't mind me, just rehearse." He says, unexpectedly trying not to disturb other musicians. 

This consent let them feel a little less anxious and the practice session starts swimmingly. To the redhead amazement, their music is truthfully pleasant. It'll make writing another song ever easier. He nods to himself as the band falls into some kind of hypnosis. Kisame's unpredictably wonderful voice is chased by instruments played now in a lightspeed. Sasori watches Itachi as he moves his fingers across the keys with a serial killer precision. Deidara also seems to speed up. If he wasn't familiar with playing drums, Sasori would anticipate the blond's bleeding fingers in less than a heartbeat. He really is proficient at this.

There is something in music, fleeting and unnamed, that always triggers the redhead. This is the reason why he part-time as a songwriter – lyrics could be as wonderful and meaningful, but they also have a deeper effect on people minds. The beauty of the letters – undefined and never hollow. They could make a kaleidoscope of feelings if you dare to read them only a little bit different. 

Just like human emotions.


	3. Truth unsaid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes! I finally wrote another chapter. Sorry for waiting. Oh, and the song is mine Enjoy!

_You told me you don't like the heat_

_So I froze lava inside my veins_

_I moved stones in my heart_

_To make a place for you._

_Oh look, I finally washed the dishes_

_And filled the fridge with your favourite food_

_I bought some flowers from the local shop_

_And cleaned tea stains on the bathroom floor._

_The dynamite won't bother you anymore,_

_I made all walls here fireproof and cold._

_I skipped the gasoline bottles and left them closed_

_I ripped my skin and smoothed the edges, so you feel at home._

_And you look safe and sound_

_And I forgot how to breath fine._

_Without the fire, I'm suffering alone._

_But I'm glad you call this place your home._

_My heart froze and you had left._

_Dirty dishes in the sink again._

_I can't shout to call you back,_

_My lungs are filled with ice and ash._

Slow humming sound ends and Sasori has difficulty to come back to reality. That song was beautiful. He swallows kind words though and stares unmoved at the band. Heavy silence wraps everyone in an uncomfortable cocoon, so instantly, the redhead sighs.

"Not that bad. I liked that song," his cautious approval removes the tension. Deidara seems to brighten up a bit and he looks ready to add something, but Sasori ends his thought. "Though the lyrics weren't the masterpiece. Let me just say that flowers and dynamite don't go well together." A critical smile graces his lips and the blond feels something twist in his stomach. He glances anxiously at the rest of the squad.   

The sudden ringtone stops the uneasiness. Deidara emerges from the room as fast as he can free himself from the drum set.

The door shuts sharply. Itachi shakes his head.

"End of the practice." he decides and raises from the keyboard.

"Nice discipline you got there" Sasori huffs amused. In the same moment, Hidan's magenta eyes travel from the door to the redhead.

"You don't know the situation, so you don't have any right to judge this." The silver-haired stresses with his strict voice. This reminder is very clear to Sasori. Something is up, but he is not familiar with the situation, so he knows nothing.  And no one is going to tell him…

"Oh, so I'm going to have to ignore that the blondie has more rights than you do? Pretty unfair, isn't it?" He observes the man for any sign of reveal, but nothing happens. It's Itachi who finally informs him.

"It's family business. Better keep out of it." He warns the redhead and leaves the room as well.

"Uh, fine. Of course, this brat had deprived childhood or something. Sad stories? So depressing." The mockery in his voice pushes Hidan to angrily shout at him.

"Stop sounding like you know everything and it's pathetic! Act like a human being and shut up! You know nothing!"

"So, tell me" he challenges and the rage seems to flow through the air.

"Well, let me just state that wasn't his usual ringtone-" he starts but Kakuzu cuts him immediately.

"He doesn't have to know this. He's just a temporary inconvenience." He shrugs his arms, although it doesn't quit Hidan's rambling.

"- This was Dinner of Humiliation ringtone." he ends and Kisame rolls his eyes.

"The end." The man interrupts.

"Okay, but what hides behind such a pathetic name as Dinner of Humiliation?"

"Zetsu knows, but Zetsu won't tell" Zetsu unexpectedly announces but it's left unaddressed as Sasori raises his brow at Hidan.

"The monthly dinner tradition held by his parents. Everyone shows up looking fancy. They talk about serious business and then bid whose child is the complete disappointment. Real fun." He ends bitterly. Sasori casts a glance all over the squad and they all fall silent before looking annoyed at the silver haired man.

 "You can't just tell everyone that. Now he knows, and Deidara is going to kill you when he finds out." Kakuzu seems to be tired of the reckless behavior, so he uses Itachi's way to avoid any problems – he disappears from his place. The amber eyes follow him out of the room. A few seconds later Sasori exits the place with an evil smile on his lips and whispers of doom behind his eyes.

"If he finds out," Hidan stresses and Kisame laughs. "What?"

"You really think this midget didn't rush straight to Deidara to mock him about this? Where have you been the whole time?" He furrows his brows in pity.

"I'm just sayin-" Hidan tries to save his situation, but even he can see it was kind of irresponsible.

"You are lost, buddy." Kisame pats his back and walks out. The silver haired man gestures desperately.

"Oh, fine, so now everyone acts like I've just signed the cerograph." He waves his hands in irritation.

The uneasiness falls between them again and Hidan starts to nervously pick at the guitar strings.

"Jashin damn my big mouth. He can't be that evil, can he?" The meaningful silence holds the unsaid, but very clear answer.

"Jashin damn it"

 

***

At first, Sasori has an urge to find the blondie and laugh at the pathetic cause that made him leave the rehearsal. Monthly dinner? Suck it up and be a man. That's barely an excuse to behave like a brat. But then, unexpected sniffle from the corner stops him, stops everything he is doing. Deidara sits in a crouch, completely covered from anyone's view, trying to force hot trails on his cheeks to stop moving. He fails this task completely, eyes begin to slowly turn more puffy and red and shiny, so shiny like sapphire gemstones drowned in crystal clear river.

Pitiful and heartbreaking, two cautious words to describe the sight before his eyes. Something isn't right, Hidan didn't tell him everything. Or maybe he doesn't understand. Deep inside, Sasori feels bad for wanting to break this boy even more in this rare moment of vulnerability, for the sake of professionalism and to save the world from the absurdity of his lyrics. Or maybe there is something more than that?

He slowly takes few steps back, desperately trying to hide his former presence around the crying blond. Unfortunately, his movements seem to attract the attention and the blond head moves slightly. When Deidara recognizes Sasori his eyes widen a bit and the half of a heartbeat later he shifts in a mere attempt to mask his cry-swollen face.

"Uhm, I'm sorry…?" Sasori manages, but he sounds like he is asking a question. He wants to hit himself in the face because of that.

"No, it's okay, un. You probably hoped that I died or something, didn't you" He smiles encouragingly and rolls his eyes. "Bad luck. I'm tougher than I look, un. I won't give up so easily."  He smiles at Sasori's stunned expression.

"But… You alright?" The awkward question erases signs of crying from the blond's face.

"Aw, Sasori, you care, un! How sweet of you, after a shit ton of unpleasant things you said earlier!" Deidara mocks him, placing his hand over his heart. Sasori grimaces at that response.

"I'm only nice because you were crying. That's my emergency procedure if I see someone crying. So, don't take it personally. Sometimes, I do things like a robot." He ties quickly believable response and the blond seems to fall for it. Sasori sighs in relief.

Crying is something really personal, vulnerable and open for damage. It's always scared the redhead. He felt like an intruder, walking at Deidara before. Maybe he doesn't like the over-energetic boy, but that doesn't mean he wouldn't respect anyone's right to cry alone. Even if they are brats with stupid ideas and big dreams.


	4. The Dinner of Humiliation

„So," Sasori starts, rubbing the back of his neck "Why were you crying, blondie?"

His words, even if comforting, don't contain any ounce of caring. The situation is not bothering him in any way. Frankly, he could just walk away. The redhead dismisses the distant sound of a door closing and stills on his place, scratching the tiles with his fingernails.

"Um, I wasn't crying, un." Deidara rolls his eyes, still crouched on the floor. "I just… got something in my eye, yeah. So it started producing water. The eye, I mean. It looked like I was crying. But I really wasn't. Yeah?"

The last part sounds more like a question, but Sasori goes with it.

"Yeah." He slowly nods, noticing how relieved Deidara looks when he does so. "Itachi ended the practice, so we are in no rush to get back to the rehearsal room. Do you… want to talk?"

Someone should shoot him for sounding so awkward. He wants to explain his words, but then Deidara shifts and his big blue eyes are looking at Sasori mischievously. He falls in a false sense of security.

"Of course, let's talk!" The blond hair flips around with the amusing amount of enthusiasm. He stands up effortlessly before Sasori can even offer his help.  A moment later they are sitting on a couch. The boy looks at Sasori expectantly. The redhead sighs.

"Hidan told me about something called the  _Dinner of Humiliation_ " he states, shrugging and looking unsure. Deidara's smile disappears in a heartbeat.

"Straight to the point, un. And I hoped you want to apologize for being an asshole," he says, raising a brow. Then he sighs heavily. "I knew it was a bad idea to tell Hidan about it. He can't ever keep a secret, un."

Sasori feels bad for telling on Hidan but he has no other excuse that explains why he knows about the Dinner of Humiliation thing in the first place. Though he wished for much milder reaction from the blond. 

"So?" Sasori stares at him, knowing he shouldn't dig deeper, but still unable to kill curiosity.

Deidara blinks slowly like he only now realizes the situation. "Why do you care anyway, un? It's none of your business. Who do you think you are, first throwing rocks at me and now you are all sweet and nice, un?" He eyes Sasori suspiciously.

"I- I don't really know. Maybe if you quitted all the ‘damsel in distress' attitude, I would act less interested. But it feels like you were shouting in my face from a high tower and now I can help you or have a headache. I chose help, by the way."

"Figured. Well, what a nice little comparison you've got there, un. Adorable." He looks at him annoyed. "So, Mr. No-Headache, what do you want to know, un? Do you wish for me to open up like a book for you to read?" he laughs bitterly, brushing some hair strands off his shoulders. Although, he does look attractive when he laughs. Weird.

Sasori straightens and uses his last amounts of patience not to roll his eyes, regretting his stupid awkwardness that keeps him from leaving the boy alone.

"What is the _Dinner of Humiliation_ thing?" The question confuses blond but a millisecond later he is back with the ‘couldn't-care-less' smile.

"I thought you told me Hidan had told you, un" He squints his beautiful eyes not quite understanding.

"Well, yes, but I wanted the first-hand version. So?" The redhead simply shrugs, avoiding looking into the depth of the blue orbs.

"Uh, it's a family tradition. You know, everyone arrives, we eat dinner, then talk and then everyone is back in their homes."

"Is… Is that all?" Sasori expects something horrible, the truth seems… bland. When the blond nods, he is even more perplexed "Why the name then?"

"Sounds fun, I guess, un." Deidara looks at the random painting, trying to get away with a little lie.

"You weren't crying because of that, right?"

When the redhead asks Deidara thinks for a second he could tell him. Tell him how stupid he feels every time he sits between his relatives only to be made fun of. Tell him about the disappointment, about mockery. About the tiring battle for freedom. But the second passes and the blond comes back to his senses.

"Yeah. I wasn't."

Ino called. His dear cousin. She told him she can't be there today. He's so terrified just thinking about spending all evening alone, how worse the real thing will be? 

"Reason?" The risen eyebrow demands an answer. And he still has none. He bites the inside of his cheek, cogs in his mind work hastily. 

"It's none of your business, un?" His quick defense sounds more like a question. _Cool, blondie, you've got this. Wonderful_ , he thinks bitterly, still waiting for Sasori's response.

"Oh, come on. You told me one thing, you can tell me another!"

 _Oh, aren't we demanding?_ Deidara sighs loudly in reply.

"Why do you care?" He starts to let his tardiness affect the words.

"Because I feel bad. You leave the rehearsal so terrified because of the phone call. Must be important." Sasori looks so emotionally involved (within his spectrum of feelings, of course) it's almost rude to decline. But Deidara didn't ask for barging into his life with this cute, freckled nose of his.

"It is, un." He says annoyed.

"And why won't you tell me?" He can only roll his eyes at that.

"Are we even friends?" _No. So stop making me want to share my thoughts with you, right now._

"But-" The redhead looks purposefully offended. That's kind of cute. Sadly, there's no time for that shit right now.

"No. Crying-on-your-shoulder time is over, un. Goodbye."

The sharp sound of door closing ends the conversation distinctly. Sasori stares at the door for few more seconds before getting up off the couch.

He completely failed. Reading the blond's mind is an impossible case. Not affected by his presence now, he slowly re-enacts the event.

Deidara actually seemed to accept Sasori, which is a miracle, in his sorrow state. Suspicious as it is, the redhead wonders what would bend him to act like that.

Maybe he'll never find out.

***

Somewhere in the center of the city hides a big, elegant building. It looks exactly the same as every house in this environment; another pile of luxurious flats with a sky-high rent and particularly sophisticated neighbors. To afford their respect, you have to be a flawless gentleman, express all sorts of old-fashioned manners while sporting completely plain-looking demeanor.

To say Deidara possess all these values is a quite understatement.

His behavior, as well as appearance, makes the conceited society frown at him. He likes to express himself in his own way – long hair and eyeliner might pass as dangerously too girly for a young boy in their eyes. The way he looks, the way he speaks, all of it makes prideful adults talk behind his back.

He doesn't care at first. But then, Dinner of Humiliation starts to take place. His life makes an erratic spin, knocking him mercilessly on the ground.

His parents at first don't seem bothered in any way. The moment they think they opened their eyes was the moment Deidara nearly loses his home.

 

_Nearly three years ago…_

 

The story begins when the respected old lady, auntie Hana, visits them unexpectedly. Everything is going smoothly until 16-year-old Deidara comes back from meeting with his friends. The lady smiles instantly when he closes the front door in a swift motion.

"Ino, dear, nice to see you! I wasn't expecting you here" The smile fades as soon as confused Deidara speaks up.

"Umm, aunt Hana, it's me. Deidara" The lady stares at him terrified.

"You look like a girl!" she screams and before Deidara can react she runs straight to his mother.

"You let him look like that and you wonder why neighbors talk behind your back?! Look at him!" She points accusingly at the confused blond. "He brings dishonor to our family!"

"But-" Deidara's mother tries to calm her sister. The woman is unmoved.

"Tell him to quit this or our family will never talk to you again!"

Then, when Deidara thinks all hell's breaks loose, his father joins the conversation.

"Hana is right" he states, his expression perfectly blank, "Deidara this phase needs to end"

Deidara's father is this type of a person, who sits silently agreeing with the group, but as soon as someone voices their thought he relates more to, he'll stab previous allies in a back. Though, he never has the courage to disagree with anyone on his own. Deidara despises him, knowing very well how substantial influence everyone's opinion has on him.

This situation is no different.

"I can do what I want. If I want to look like myself, you have no power against that, un. Also, there's no problem other than you and your closed minds." He speaks up, folding his arms protectively around his frail stance. Three adults exchange an abstruse look.

"Deidara, honey, you can't be comfortable in this…" Aunt Hana eyes distastefully him from feet to head "… _image_." She forces herself to end. It's clearly not a word she has in mind.

"I am. I would be glad if you accepted it too, aunt Hana, un." Stubbornness is visible in his eyes.  The woman shows discontent. Then Deidara's mother clears her throat.

"Let's not talk about that now… Hana, I'm sure you wouldn't refuse a cup of tea." With a warm smile on her lips, she forcefully grabs aunt Hana and leads her out to the kitchen.

That leaves Deidara and his father in the room.

He gulps silently, but the man maintains his distant look.

"We will have a real talk when Hana is back home" he warns him and joins the women in the kitchen.

Deidara thinks the worst is gone. He doesn't realize the burden he will soon have to carry on his shoulders.

 

_Present day…_

 

"Deidara, can you please set the table?" His mother busies herself with roast in the oven and mixing all sorts of spices into a salad. He obediently nods while reaching for plates from the cupboard.

Everything goes dangerously smoothly, but Deidara is not the one easily deceived. He knows that as soon as aunt Hana comes to their doorstep, his parents only a bit unwillingly stop being so tolerant of him.

Deidara is really glad he doesn't live with them anymore.

The doorbell rings, sending unpleasant sensation through his skin. He sets all plates and utensils perfectly in place, not daring to welcome the guest.

Ino told him she won't be here today, so what's the point?

An old lady with the most impressive looking hat Deidara has ever seen before, elegantly crosses the doorstep. Hatred burns his heart when aunt Hana smiles kindly at his parents. The lady looks especially pleased with the way he frowns when their eyes meet.

 _I hate you_ , is all he wants to convey in that look.

 _I know_ , she answers right back, corners of her lips risen in amusement.

He sinks his nails into his palm, sharp pain helps him shut every insult up.

He won't let her destroy him, even without the psychical support that came from his cousin.

***

"You still look like a girl"

Deidara freezes for a moment, not expecting the attack. He slowly puts the fork with a piece of cheesecake into his mouth, taking his time to answer.  There’s nothing aunt Hana hates more than being ignored.

"And you still are old and bigoted, un." He informs, sly smile forms on his lips.

The lady smacks her lips. "I guess you still hadn't found a job."

"I _have_ a job" he reminds bitterly "You are just too conceited to consider it, un."

"Oh, I meant a real job. Not some _playing in a band_. That doesn't improve your chances for a future successful career." She makes a sad face, faking worry.

"Successful career, huh? And what, in your opinion, I should be doing?"

"You could be a businessman, that's respectful job for someone from our social class." She straightens at her seat, trying to be perceived as a meaningful side of an argument.

"I don't want to be a businessman. I'm an _artist_ , un!" Deidara snaps with a force of a dying dinosaur in his voice. Aunt Hana shakes her head.

"A fool, that's what you are. Look at you." She eyes distastefully his white shirt and jeans. "I can't let you destruct all your potential. That would be such a waste"

"For who? For you, because you can't say your nephew does something valuable in your eyes? I'm sorry to disappoint you, aunt Hana, but I choose my happiness before your social status." He raises, nearly knocking his chair down when he does so. Then he bows to his mother. "Thank you for the dinner."

He leaves the room thinking it's the best thing he can do right now.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I was super self-conscious about my chapter's length and I tried to change that. I hoped you enjoyed reading this, kudos and comments are love. Also, I'm sorry for every mistake. Lots of love <3!


	5. Deaf shouting

_Violent thoughts all again,_

_Keep me dying, keep me drowning in myself,_

_I can’t see any way out,_

_So I stare blindly back at the moonlight._

_Do you see it? The world is slowly fading,_

_Blurring every concern to the ground._

_Do you see it? People are still waiting._

_Chasing after signs of a pure heart._

_I don’t want to talk, I don’t want to stay in silence,_

_I don’t want to know what people think of me_

_I just want to stay safe like that my whole life,_

_But I clearly cannot even try._

_I’m done sabotaging every step_

_No more harsh arguments at all._

_I only wish that it could change_

_The bitter memories are heaving the air_

_…_

 

Soft footsteps approach the working songwriter stopping him in the middle of creating art. Though, he is rather thankful for that. The song he just wrote sounds a little bit too depressing, thanks to his foul mood. He doesn’t worry about the song revealing his deepest concerns. The paper will stay deeply hidden in his notebook. In that case, no one will ever find out. Well, maybe someone already did.

When he looks up, his eyes meet a light green mug with coffee. He takes it gratefully, instantly forcing the bitter liquid down his throat. That makes him less tired, even if the feeling is caused more by wishful thinking than the real effect of the beverage.

Sadly, it can’t cure the heaviness inside his heart.

“Thanks, un,” he says softly to the man taking a seat on the armchair across the couch he is sitting on. The redhead nearly smiles at the blond. From that one action his face immediately looks younger and healthier. Oddly alive.

“You’re welcome.”

After their weird discussion they had the previous day, Sasori subconsciously detects that Deidara is way less cheerful than usual. It’s quite a miracle he can do that after such a brief period, but the redhead somehow manages to notice it. He doesn’t comment on it in any way; he probably lost this privilege the day before, when he uncaringly ripped the information about Deidara’s life out of him.

“You’re working on the new song?” Sasori asks to break the silence that starts to set between them. He points at the open notebook. Deidara flashes him a smile, simultaneously closing the page.

“Trying. I think I’m too tired to actually write something.” He yawns adorably, looking behind his shoulder to check the time on the big clock that Konan had plastered to the wall a few weeks before.

Sasori’s eyes unwillingly travel to the line of his neck and up to his tanned jaw and lips in the color of magnolia petals. Deidara looks mellowly exhausted. It’s kind of charming on him. Sleepy eyes flicker to the clock, but the redhead notices the way he scrunches his nose. He visibly isn’t okay with being here so early, with only Sasori as a company. The thought startles the redhead. 

Why Sasori is here in the first place has a simple reason. Konan told him to be there early to sign some documents that would let him work for the Akatsuki. Of course, the blue-haired woman is nowhere to be seen, so Sasori has to wait. He hates every minute of it.

Maybe that’s why he lets his mind wander to meaningless things. Like, where the blond went last night. It’s completely useless to know, although he already had some theories in the pocket. Not that the topic should bother him. He would start to think Deidara lives in this apartment if the blond hadn’t left it the day before. However, he was here when Sasori knocked. He surely wasn’t happy to see the other man at all.

To say the redhead was shocked would be a lie. Maybe he isn’t entirely innocent, but he is sure Deidara’s life doesn’t revolve around him. A clever idea to lighten up the mood by making coffee appeared in his mind. He made his way to the kitchen.

After a quite tiring time of rummaging through the cupboards, he finally found two mugs. Of course, the band wouldn’t invest in a coffee machine, so he had to boil some water. He soon guessed in with can they stored coffee. Two mugs were quickly filled with an unhealthy amount of brown powder. 

While the kettle was warming up, Sasori surveyed the fridge on a vital quest to find milk. Pushing some containers with something that disturbingly resembled blood aside, he dug his way to the bottom of the fridge. A half empty carton with soon to expire white liquid stood there like a treasure chest. He unscrewed the cap, one-handedly putting out the fire from under the furiously whistling kettle and filled the mugs with evaporating water. Right before pouring some milk, he wondered about Deidara’s coffee preferences. He was shrugging his arms in disinterest as he added milk and two teaspoons full of sugar. If the brat doesn’t like the kindly offered coffee he can always make another one himself. Sasori is glad he could get himself the longed drink as well.

Now, when they are sitting in the living room, Sasori thinks how odd the whole situation is. Usually, Deidara is the one to talk relentlessly until Sasori wants to bang his head into the closest solid object. There’s something menacing in this silence. Something cold and wrong.

His eyes wander to the blond’s focused face and he tries to recognize the emotions behind the fluttered eyelashes. The action is fruitless – Sasori could as well stare blankly at the nearest wall. Maybe if he tried hard enough, it could get him hallucinations. 

“I’m sorry” Sasori mumbles quietly, gluing his sight to the floor. Something clenching around his heart easies when he allows the words out. He can finally breathe with comfort.

Deidara straightens and looks up, examining the redhead closely. At first, he doesn’t have a clue for what Sasori just apologized. Then the guilt in rich amber eyes flows through his synapses and immediately everything makes sense. His sadness-coated apathy lets him curl his lips in a reassuring smile.  

“It’s okay, un.” He assures the redhead, hiding the half of his face behind another sip of his coffee. He still is amazed that Sasori correctly guessed the amount of milk and sugar. Unbelievable.

“No, it’s not. I know I’m not the nicest person, but that doesn’t excuse my actions. I should’ve known better than pushing you to say things you didn’t want to say.” Sasori’s vision is still glued to the wooden floor. Deidara freezes silent, unprepared to face the softer side of his co-worker.

“Sasori, I told you, it’s okay. Now, stop worrying yourself over it.”  He sighs gently like a faint whisper of the breeze upon the salty sea.

Unexpectedly the sound of the door opening crashes through the stillness of the room. Sasori waits for familiar clicking sound of high heels announcing Konan’s arrival. Surely, the woman invades the room, grinning in welcome at the two. The atmosphere immediately shifts, quicker than a wave grabbing the resting boat at the shore and hauling it into the ultramarine depth.

“Good morning.” She sounds energetic, the joy is visible in her golden eyes. Her whole being glows; she always spreads the sense of brightness and optimism around. Her makeup is as always subtle, achieving its purpose at making her even more effortlessly beautiful.

When the grumpy blond raises his hand in a mere attempt to welcome her, Konan shifts her worried eyes from him to Sasori and back. She smiles at him nevertheless then turns to the redhead. Her face lightens a little bit, though she doesn’t seem so relaxed as before.

“Good morning,” Sasori responses, stumbling from the armchair he is occupying. “You wanted to see me.” He notes not quite asking and remains to wait for the woman to confirm.

“Yes. I want you to sign some papers and we can start our collaboration.” She emphasizes her words, gesturing at Sasori slightly.

He nods understandingly. ”Right now?”

“Yes, come with me. I left the documents in the office.” she waves her hand, and Sasori follows her obediently to the manager’s office that was actually a small private library before the Akatsuki rented the place.

The room is small and cozy, white walls covered on the one side with clippings from the newspapers that mentioned the band. Someone cut from a cardboard and painted in bright colors letters arranging them to spell “THE WALL OF FAME”. _Adorable_ , Sasori thinks not as bitterly and darkly as he should. He catches himself only seconds from breaking a small aloe vera plant in a flower pot that unexpectedly finds its place right under his right foot.

“Careful with Zetsu Junior.” Konan half-heartedly warns him from where she is standing next to the door. She closes it quietly as Sasori stumbles back to the middle of the room, away from Zetsu Junior.

There’s only one chair on the other side of the desk, so he takes it after Konan motions to him to do so. He quickly glances over a first document on the desk that is showed to him. The woman sits on the other side and picks up a pen. She shuffles it around to Sasori.

The first page he signs reads about the Publishing Rights, but Sasori nearly memorized the whole thing before he even applied. He hastily scans the text, precisely checking if everything is the same. His overzealousness rescued him in that kind of plight a few times already. He doesn’t find anything worrying in the text.

Meanwhile, the blue-haired woman sighs loudly, clearly wanting to use the advantages of quiet solitude and interrogate the redhead while he is distracted. _Really clever_ , Sasori decides in the back of his mind.

“I know you are new in here,” She starts, and when Sasori raises his head in question she beckons over at him to keep signing the papers. “But I already noticed you and the other members don’t click.” she continues with an annoying smack of her tongue. Sasori wants to roll his eyes. It’s obvious they don’t _click_.

“We should have everything sorted out in the next few weeks. I know they don’t like the idea of me replacing the brat. I meant Deidara.” He quickly corrects himself as Konan squints her eyes at him.

“They probably don’t.” Konan agrees, fixing up the blue strands and pushing them away from her pretty face. “Deidara is much quieter around you.” She shoots out of the blue. Sasori has no idea what the woman wants to imply, but nevertheless he shakes his head, showing his disagreement.

“I know I’m new here and I don’t know much about his personal life, but I’m pretty certain I’m not the reason he’s so gloomy today.” The redhead mutters under his breath. Konan raises her brow. It’s interesting to Sasori that even the woman, who as a manager should get that kind of things, is completely unaware what is the core of the blond’s problem.

With another swing of ink, small elegant letters compose to read his name. Another page checked and signed. Stiff push to the side and repeat. The pile reduces with each wave of the pen.

“If you say so.” Konan shrugs her arms unconvinced and collects the signed papers. After a moment Sasori is done. “Thank you.”

“So, I’m officially in the band now?” he asks and a tingle of excitement rushes through his veins. He had waited for this, the moment when he can turn his dreams into an actual career despite his grandmother discouragements, that only made him wish and work harder. 

He can’t stop the smile to blossom on his lips when Konan jokingly says “Yes, from now on you are in the band. Forever. Until the death does you part” her grim humor vanishes in a half of a heartbeat and she grins back brightly. “Congratulations.” She is clasping her hands ravely.

Something meaningful is happening in his life. If he ever was interested in dying, he would choose this moment. He can’t imagine being happier than what he feels right now, like he just swallowed the sun and it lights from the inside of his body, warm and fuzzy. Probably that wouldn’t be the safest thing to do in your free time.

_Well, Granny Chiyo, it looks like you never were right. I’ll show you and the entire world the art of songwriting. Just you wait,_ he thinks, amazed with the achievement. He forgets that the sneaky rope of failure tightens around his neck, waiting cautiously for him to show any sign of weakness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, kudos and comments are love. The song at the beginning is as always mine. Also, I should say, I think I'm going to post one chapter per month, hopefully it'll work. Lots of hugs <3.


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